


the big porn (but actually without any porn) fic

by Skyuni123



Category: Internet Personalities, Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Porn, Bad Puns, Companionable Snark, Coping, Ethical Quandaries, Ethics, Existential Crisis, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Porn, Questionable Practises, Snark, Some Humor, This Is Not Going To Go The Way You Think
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-02
Updated: 2019-02-01
Packaged: 2019-02-09 13:33:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 6,733
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12888957
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skyuni123/pseuds/Skyuni123
Summary: Phil is a porn editor.Dan is a porn star.You know how this ends.(contains as many terrible porn puns as I can think of)





	1. Space Jammin'

He didn’t _mean_ to become a porn editor.

It was an _accident._

 

When life gives you student debt, sometimes you get worried _about_ said debt and take the first video editing job you can find out of university, which is conveniently at an indie porn studio known for its ‘wholesome and fulfilling content’.

 

(About as ‘wholesome’ and ‘fulfilling’ as hardcore sex can be, at least.)

(Heh, ful _filling._ )

 

Sometimes you get _attached_ to this accidental job and stick around and eventually pay off your student debt but still stay working for the studio.

It was an _accident._

 

But somehow, Phil Lester doesn’t hate it.

  


_Cinéma Luxure_ is a small London studio that specialises in feminist porn and more ‘comfortable’ content than a lot of mainstream studios make. They try to act ethically, treat their actors well, and just generally make things a lot safer for the people they hire.

“Cinéma Luxure!” His boss, James, had crowed at his job interview. “Really just means ‘lust cinema’, doesn’t it, but the punters lap it up. _And_ it sounds fancy enough that no-one’s going to think it’s raunchy on a tax form.”

“Okay.” Phil had agreed, at the time. He mainly just thought that the name sounded pretentious.

However, a job was a job and he’d found himself thrown into the deep end upon being hired.

  


But now, with his 20s drawing to a close? He doesn’t hate it. He doesn’t hate it at all.

 

He’s about halfway through editing _Space Jammin’_ \- and hating the camera op of the whole thing for missing an obvious _better_ angle - when a female voice echoes down the corridor. “Phil?!” 

She could always message him… she doesn’t have to shout… “Yeah?”

“Office!”

 

Honestly.

 

Emma’s a few years younger than him, but insurmountably better at the whole ‘porn’ thing than he is. It probably explains why she’s the content producer for a lot of the shoots he works on. Cinéma Luxure is a small company but it gets **results.**  

He climbs out of his chair, knocks over one of his houseplants as he does (“Sorry, Susan!”) - his office is a _shoebox,_ okay - and hurries down the corridor to her office. “Em?”

She looks harried - more harried than usual, and she gestures for him to sit down as she finishes up a phone call. “Yeah, Jack, I’ll confirm who the model is for that fleshlight line by the end of the week. Okay? Yeah. I will. Thanks.”

 

She rings off without even saying goodbye and eyes him from across the desk. “Do you want to do a favour for me?”

“...That depends on what the favour is?”

“Come on, Phil, work with me.” She pleads. “I’ve got a man coming in for a shoot, all my runners are off on that Justice League parody set, and I need someone to pick him up.”

 

“ _The Just Ass League_ isn’t going well then, I take it?” It’s not a particularly inspiring name, though he’s sure they’re not going to have to stray far from the source text with a character called ‘The Flash’.

 

“Richard Shaft is a diva and he knows it.” She huffs. “It’s a shame he’s so pretty.”

It is a shame, considering the stories he’s heard. Cinéma Luxure might be an indie studio, but sometimes it has to cut corners and take on popular acts. “Will I have to stay on the set?” He’s fine with working for a porn studio, fine with editing for them, but he doesn’t particularly want to see it in the flesh.

 

She shakes her head and laughs. “Of course not. Sometimes I don’t understand how you survive here, Phil.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’ve known you for four years and I’ve never heard you say fuck once. You don’t step onto the sets, and yet, you’re one of the best editors I know. You’re an enigma, Phil Lester.”

 

He snorts, though the complement is nice to hear. “If you think so. I’ll pick the guy up, if you don’t mind _Space Jammin’_ taking an extra few hours or so. Where is he?”

 

“The airport. Flight’s coming in in about an hour.”

 

“Fine. Who am I picking up?”

 

“Daniel Howell.”

 

Oh. Well. He can’t say he’s upset about that. Out of all the acts that Cinéma Luxure hires, Daniel Howell is one of the… least awful. By all accounts, he’s a pretty decent guy.

Phil hopes, because otherwise he’s going to be stuck in a car with an awful person for at least an hour in awful London traffic.

Oh well. The errand gives him a break, at least. “You owe me petrol money.” He says as he stands up from the desk and heads out the door.

 

“You’re a lifesaver.” Emma calls at his retreating back.


	2. Guess Who's Cumming to Dinner?

Phil does some impressively quick Googling while waiting for Howell’s flight to land. 

 

_ Howell, 26, if you haven’t heard of him, is the thinking girl’s porn star: teens and young women fangirl over him and he’s made quite an impression as a figure willing to critique the porn industry.  _

_ Joining the industry in his late teens, Howell has seen the recent rise of the ‘feminist porn’ genre - the (unbelievable) notion that women watch porn too - and he welcomes it. “When I started in adult films, I was nineteen years old. Everyone else was your stereotypical porn guy, and I guess I brought something new to the table.” He specializes in the 'boyfriend experience’: less of a rough take on erotica, with more dialogue, foreplay, and a genuine desire to make his co-stars feel good. _

_ “I wanted to make films that mattered, that didn’t just rely on cheap shots and garish lighting to provoke a response. The adult film industry has its dark parts and I’m determined not to participate in them, even if that affects my career.” _

_ As well as his unique take on the industry, Howell has set himself out as being one of the only male stars to perform in a bisexual capacity on screen, shooting with both male and female stars. “I’m very lucky that I’ve found my niche with Cinéma Luxure. That company has…”  _ [Refinery29]

 

Phil nearly drops his phone as the doors open in front of him and people start streaming out. It’s not hard to spot Howell, who towers over most of the other passengers. He’s even taller in person than he seems on screen.

(And Phil hasn’t  _ deliberately  _ watched any of the guy’s repertoire or anything, but he did spend several late nights editing  _ Guess Who's Cumming to Dinner?  _ a few months ago and saw far too much of Howell’s face during that to not have it cemented in his mind.)

Howell’s looking a bit lost on the edge of the crowd and Phil realises that this is his cue. 

 

He pushes past some people - being taller than most of them helps, it seems - and taps Howell on the shoulder. “Hey,” he says, shifting a little uncomfortably on his feet, “This is totally not weird, hopefully, but I’m from Cinéma Luxure and I’ll be your driver for today.”

“Alright.” Howell says, easily, amusement clear in his brown eyes. “Can I get some ID first? Just want to make sure I’m not heading out with a total stranger.”

“Oh yeah, of course.” Phil pulls his wallet from his pocket and shows the other man his Luxure ID. 

Howell takes it, scans it quickly and then hands it back. “Phillip Lester…” He muses, “Hi. I’m Dan.” 

“Dan.” Phil repeats. They shake on it. “Tell you what, maybe we should go? I think that group of girls over there might have recognised you.”

Dan looks over, spots the girls, and winces. “There’s no way in hell that any of them are eighteen. This reputation is… bad sometimes. Yeah, let’s go.”

 

They head out of the airport, after quickly stopping for Dan’s bags on the way.

* * *

 

The traffic is awful on the way to the shoot location. The traffic is generally awful in London anyway, but this is  _ excessive. _

 

Dan drums his fingers on the dashboard and says, “So, Phillip, what do you do?”

“Yeah, don’t call me Phillip.” He replies, fighting the urge to yawn. Traffic. In London. Ugh. “Makes me sound like I’m eighty. Phil’s good.”

“Alright,  _ Philly.”  _ Dan looks over at him and grins. “What do you do, then? I really doubt you’re a driver all the time, considering the state of this car.”

Phil could be offended, but there really  _ are  _ a lot of sweet packets scattered around the car’s interior. “Luxure pays me to sit in my office, look after my houseplants, and occasionally edit adult films.”

“You’re an editor?” Dan asks, sounding impressed. “That’s neat. I can’t imagine what it’d be like to have to watch naked arseholes like me thousands of times just to get the final product right.”

“Could be worse.” Phil says, slyly, before he can stop himself.

“Real smooth, Lester.” Dan snorts. “Seriously, though. I just do my thing and then I get to go home. I don’t have to watch my dumb body undulate around for hours. You’ve got the raw edge of the deal.”

Phil laughs, and flicks on his turn signal, finally noticing a gap in the traffic. “I think I’ll stick with my side, thanks. Performing hasn’t ever been my thing.”

“It’s not really my thing either.” Dan admits, fingers still drumming. “I’m like… the biggest introvert the world’s ever seen. I’d prefer to be home gaming than doing shoots all over the world.”

 

Well, that’s interesting. One of the UK’s most popular adult film stars is an introvert? That’s something he’d never thought he’d see. 

 

He spots the turn off, and takes it. “Then why’d you start doing porn? If you’d rather not?”

Dan hesitates. His fingers slow to a halt. “I guess it’s… different… in front of the cameras. Performing. It doesn’t quite feel like me, you know? It’s like it’s me, but not really me. Just a persona. Plus, I dropped out of law school without completing and student loans are a  _ bitch.” _

“Tell me about it. I have a master’s degree. Still paying that off.” He sighs. “Porn just… happened. It was an accident. I have a lot of those.”

Dan laughs, pensive mood apparently forgotten. He pats Phil on the shoulder and gestures out at the traffic, which has slowed to a halt again. “Sounds like we’re going to get along just fine, Philly. Tell me, since the traffic is fucked, do you like video games?  _ Please  _ tell me you like gaming. I might just have to leave the car if you don’t.”

 

Oh yeah, they’re going to get along just fine. 


	3. A Queer and Pleasant Stranger

Phil drops Dan off and arrives back at the office, mind blissfully clear. It seems like the drive is exactly what he needed, because he finishes _Space Jammin’_ in record time and gets to work on _Scott Pilgrim vs Those Girls_ before three pm.

 

An email from Emma arrives at 3.02.

_Petrol money and a little extra will be in your account this evening if you check this over for me. John’s edit of A Queer and Pleasant Stranger. There’s a few shots I’m iffy on in the first ten minutes._

 

John is a new editor. He’s fine, but he doesn’t have quite the finesse as some of the others on their team do. Phil doesn’t mind.

He shuts his office door - because the interns probably don’t need to be seeing _that_ at this time in the afternoon - and sits back in his chair.

 

_A Queer and Pleasant Stranger?_ He doesn’t know much about it, only knows it was shooting somewhere out of the city, which is fairly rare for the company.

 

(He’s not sure how well the actual _title_ of the film is going to go down with the community, but Cinema Luxure is nothing if not a little bit subversive, and it’ll probably be okay.)

 

He double-clicks on the video file and takes another sip of Ribena while it loads.

 

Which he nearly spits out all over the desk when the first name that shows up in the pre-roll credits is ‘Daniel Howell’.

 

Okay.

 

This is… fine.

 

He just needs to be objective.

 

It’s perfectly normal to be watching the pornographic film of someone whom he just had a spirited conversation about Mario Kart with less than two hours ago.

 

It’s fine.

 

* * *

 

It is _not_ fine.

 

Howell’s _good_ at this. The man lives up to his hype.

 

He’s awkward, but somehow charming, sensitive and kind. Phil would even call him ‘soft’, if the word wouldn’t immediately open a can of worms that he doesn’t need to be thinking about. It’s unspeakably erotic, and Phil’s seen a _lot_ of porn.

 

He knows what he’s talking about.

 

It’s suddenly very warm in his office. He would open the door again, but that’s probably not the best idea right at this very moment.

 

Five years in this job and he’s contemplating wanking on company time.

 

Well, there’s gotta be a first for everything.

 

He’s never going to see Howell again.

 

It can’t hurt.

* * *

 

Emma calls him into her office just as he’s about to leave that night. The edits are made to _A Queer and Pleasant Stranger_ , he’s had one of the best self-inflicted orgasms he’s ever had, and he feels a little bit ashamed about it, but everything’s fine.

 

It’s fine.

 

“Good work today.” Emma says, not even bothering to look up from her computer when he comes in. “Tomorrow’s schedule is fairly thin now you’ve finished _Jammin’_ and _Pilgrim_ , would you mind doing me another favour?”

 

“I’m not your chauffeur, Emma.”

 

“Please?” She looks up and blinks innocently at him. “There’ll be a bonus for you if you do.”

 

He sighs. Money is good. “What do you want me to do?”

 

“Will you drive Dan Howell to Brighton tomorrow? There’s a shoot on in the afternoon, real nice wholesome stuff, all our runners are busy and he requested you especially.”

 

The universe is a cruel, cruel creature.

 

Howell’s going to hell and he’s dragging Phil right along with him.


	4. Sex Machina

“Morning!” Howell says, cheerfully, as he clambers into the car. He slings his bag into the back and puts a clear tupperware box up onto the dashboard. “I see you’ve done some cleaning.”

 

“Only the best for one of our most-loved stars.” Phil replies, dryly, a beat too slow. 

 

“Mhmm.” Dan eyes him up and down, just for a second.

 

It’s amazing how quickly a cursory glance leaves him hot under the collar. But he can’t. He shouldn’t. He shakes it off, starts the car again, pulls out into traffic “So. Brighton. What are you doing there?” It’s a tad too high-pitched, oddly dizzying in the heat of the car.

 

“Luxure’s newest title.” Dan huffs, “ _ Sex Machina.  _ It’s really very cinematic. I’m sure Alex Garland would be pleased.”

 

“Wasn’t…  _ Ex Machina  _ really ethically dubious?” He’s not seen the film for a couple of years, but he’s fairly sure that he remembers correctly. It had been… gross... at times.

 

“So dubious.” Dan snorts. “But people like that kind of thing. It’s riding the line between pleasure and pain.” 

 

Phil valiantly soldiers through the fact that his brain’s about to short out. “You… uh… what role do you play?” 

 

“Domhnall Gleeson’s role, obviously. Have you seen how white I am?” Dan stretches out and yawns. “We’ve got some guy coming in who looks  _ annoyingly  _ like Oscar Isaac - he’s beautiful, I’ve worked with him before - and then there’s going to be some robot stuff. It might not be your cup of tea, Philly, guess we’ll just have to see!”

 

Phil blushes bright, bright red. He can feel it on his face, even though he can’t quite see it. “I… uh… I’m sure some people will like it.”

 

Dan snorts. “You’re so red that we could use you as a traffic light, Phil. Relax.”

 

“I am relaxed!” Phil punctates his point by narrowing missing a parked car. 

 

“Sure, sure.” Dan looks at him, consideringly. “You’re weirdly off about this sort of thing today, Phil. What’s happened in the 24 hours since I saw you last?”

 

Phil doesn’t answer. It’s entirely because he’s trying to merge into another stream of traffic, not because he’s avoiding anything. Obviously.

 

“Holy  _ shit. _ ” Dan exclaims, and nearly knocks the tupperware off the dashboard. “You watched some of my stuff! That’s why you’re being so weird! What did you think? Did you like it? Was it hot?”

 

“...I… uh…” If it’s even possible, he blushes even redder.

 

“You  _ did!”  _ Dan seems oddly joyful about the whole thing. “Did you get off to it?”

 

_ Little shit.  _

 

“I’m not going to answer that question.” He turns into another street, thoroughly ignoring his heart hammering in his ears. This is odd. This is very, very odd.

 

“So you did then.” Dan muses, thoughtfully. “Guess that means I’m pretty good at my job if I can rile up someone who watches dicks for a living.”

 

“Not just dicks.” Phil retorts, before he can stop himself.

 

“But mostly dicks, though. Surely the dick to no-dick ratio in porn is  _ ridiculous.” _

 

“I’ve never really thought about it.”

 

“Then again, I’ve definitely seen more dicks than the average human. So have you, come to think of it.”

 

“Yes, it’s like we work in the porn industry or something.” Phil replies, dryly, a tiny bit rattled. If anything, he’s happy the conversation’s moved away from his masturbation habits.

 

“Still, I’m flattered.” Dan looks at him, very earnestly, and pats him on the arm. “Normally people buy me a drink before they get to see the back catalogue, but I guess you’re just lucky.”  

 

“You’re lucky I’m still driving. I could make you get the train to Brighton, you know.” 

 

“Ugh.” Dan screws up his face. “No thanks. You know how much I want people staring at me for two hours and realising that they recognise me from a gangbang? No thanks.”

 

“Your life…” Phil sighs. “I’m just very happy that I don’t have your job.”

 

“I’m very happy that I don’t have  _ your  _ job.” Dan squeezes his shoulder gently. “Which one did you see?”

 

“Uh…” There’s no doubt he’s talking about his films. He shifts about in his seat, and nearly crashes the car again. It’s not because of the other man’s touch. Not at all. “A Queer and Pleasant Stranger? I had to fix some of the edit.” 

 

“Holy  _ shit,  _ Phillip, did you masturbate on company time?” Dan gasps, faux-outraged. He lets go, and it’s like Phil can breathe again. “That’s like a premise for another film of mine, right there.  _ Dirty.”  _

 

“Yeah, yeah, shut up.” Phil replies, Northern brogue making an unwelcome appearance in his tone, the way it usually does when he’s put out. “In the scheme of all the things you’ve done, is me doing… that… really so bad?”

 

“No, but you’re not a professional porn actor.” Dan winks at him. “I bet you’d like to know all about some of the things I’ve done. In the last week I’ve -”

 

Phil glares so furiously at him that he could probably burn the hearts out of lesser men. “So help me, I’m pulling this car over. You can  _ walk  _ to Brighton.”

 

“I would die after a kilometre in this weather.” Dan gestures out of the car. It’s been raining steadily ever since he was picked up. “And you know I’m teasing.  _ Plus,  _ I bought cupcakes for you. I made cupcakes for you out of the kindness of my heart, Lester, surely that’s enough to get a free ride to Brighton.”

 

He picks up the tupperware box and waves it at him. There does, indeed, appear to be cupcakes inside.

 

“You’re on thin ice.” Phil pouts at him, but there’s no heat in it. He’s oddly  _ touched.  _ This man he’s barely known for a day made cupcakes for him? That’s really sweet.

 

(Metaphorically and literally.)

 

“Give me a cupcake.” 

 


	5. La Voyage Sans La Lube

Phil survives the trip to Brighton.

Barely.

 

He spends two  _ long  _ hours fighting off the faint curl of arousal hanging in the pit of his stomach and nearly crashes the car more than once. It’s not his fault, okay? Howell’s just so irritatingly sweet and self-depreciating in real life - he can’t help but hark back to the video he’d watched.

 

The other man’s screen persona isn’t too far from his real self, and that  _ hurts.  _ He doesn’t know why, but it does.

 

Damn, he’s got it bad. He’s not felt so strongly about someone since university, and perhaps not even then. 

This job was a bad idea.

  
  


Phil loiters about in Brighton for a few hours, enjoying the chance to not be sat in front of his computer. The job’s pretty good, really, it is, but it’s  _ lonely.  _ He doesn’t get much of an opportunity to actually interact with real live people. (It’s not that he  _ loves  _ doing that, but he can tolerate others for short amounts of time.) He goes to Starbucks, hangs out in the library and monopolises their free wifi, and just relaxes.

Apart from the whole Howell thing, being a driver isn’t all that bad. 

 

It’s 6.03pm when he gets a text.

_ can u come get me now pls? <3 ur work  _ and then two crying cat face emojis.

Phil has absolutely no idea what that means, but he finishes his drink, leaves the cafe, and drives all the way back to the other side of the city to pick up Dan.

  
  


Dan stumbles into the car, dragging his bag behind him. He looks utterly exhausted, eyes red and glassy, and he winces as he sits down. 

 

“Shit.” Phil says, because although he doesn’t tend to swear, the sight’s thoroughly stunned him out of any sensible response, “Are you okay?”

 

“Mhmmmm.” Dan closes his eyes and leans back against the seat. “Feel like shit.”

 

“Why?”

 

“You know anything about the intricacies of BDSM?”

 

“I-I mean, not really?” He’s seen it on screen enough, but that doesn’t mean anything. 

 

“Fuck.” He cracks open an eye and pulls out his phone. “One sec.”

 

After a few seconds he passes it over to Phil. The webpage is titled ‘subdrop’ and it’s pretty wordy. He skims it, eyes widening at some of the content within. After a moment he passes it back. “This is what you’re feeling now?”   
  


“Yeah…” Dan groans, and closes his eyes again. “They’re… supposed to do things to help with it… and all… but you know this company, always cutting corners.”

 

Doesn’t he know it.

 

He feels wholly underqualified for this situation, but he’s always been able to think decently on his feet. “Sugar and warmth, right? There’s too much traffic now to get on the motorway anyway. We can get hot chocolates and just sit and talk for a bit? I’ve got a blanket in the back, I think. If you’d like.”

 

Dan opens his eyes and stares at him for so long that it nearly makes Phil feel a bit uncomfortable. Is he… is he on the verge of tears? “You would do that for me?” He wipes a hand over his eyes and sniffs. “Sorry. Usually I just do this alone in an Uber on my way home.”

 

And isn’t that  _ tragic?  _ It’s awful, and he says as much to Dan.

 

“Well, yeah…” Dan blinks oddly slowly at him. Is that a remnant of the scene as well? “But that’s what happens. I don’t usually get a driver. C’est la vie or whatever.”

 

“Gosh.” Because, really, Phil has absolutely no idea what to say.

  
  


He parks the car somewhere where they can see the lights reflecting off the ocean. It’s a dark night, but the moon hangs overhead and gives them just enough light to see by.

 

Dan’s sitting subdued, wrapped up in a blanket, making his way through a large hot chocolate. He still looks terrible, but at least he’s not actively shivering anymore. “Mmmm… shit day. Hot chocolate’s good though, thanks for that.”

 

“Want to talk about it?” Phil mightn’t be the best person at giving advice but his mum always said he was a good listener. He supposes that counts for something.

 

“I mean - not  _ no,  _ but do you really want to hear me whine about ethics in the porn industry?” 

 

“We’re stuck in a car together for a while. It’s not like it’d be a problem.” 

 

“Right.” Dan puts down his hot chocolate and sits up a little. “I’m just going to rant at you for a while, then.”

 

And he does. Profusely. It’s not terrible to listen to, actually, and Dan makes quite a few good points, it’s just a  _ lot.  _

  
  


“...and I was stuck there, tied up for a-”

 

Phil’s phone rings at a few minutes past seven, cutting off Dan’s rant quite nicely. He answers it without even looking at the caller ID. “Hello?”

 

“Where are you?” It’s Emma. Of course it is.

 

“Brighton?”

 

“Good. Is Dan with you?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Good. Tell him to check his email, would you?”

 

Phil mutes the call and tells Dan exactly that. Then, he unmutes it. “Tell me why I just did that.”

 

“I have news you’ll like and news you won’t like. Which do you want first?”

 

“Don’t mess me around, Emma, just tell me what’s going on.” Phil replies, at the exact same time Dan shrieks, “Oh, you’ve got to be fucking kidding me!”

 

“Dan doesn’t sound happy.” She remarks, then sighs. “Look, Phil, I don’t actually want to do this sort of thing to you, but you’re in town already. Dan’s just discovered he’s got another shoot tomorrow. I’ve booked you both a hotel. Can you stay overnight and drive him back tomorrow afternoon?”

 

“How many times do I have to tell you that I’m not a driver?” Phil reminds her, mind whizzing. He’d expected a day trip,  _ at most.  _ He’s got some spare clothing in the back - because he’s prepared, obviously, it’s far better to travel that way - but it’s still a pain. “I have an actual job, you know. I work for  _ you.  _ As an  _ editor. _ ”

 

“You’ll get paid for all your hours spent away from your desk next week. And Howell  _ likes  _ you. You’re the first driver he’s actually tolerated.”

 

“Really?” Phil looks over at Dan, who’s got his phone out and is angrily holding it up to his ear. “He’s been really good to me. We’ve gotten on well.”

 

“Not everyone likes talking about video games all the time, Phil.” Her voice softens. “Is he doing okay? I know he’s been having problems lately and this many scenes in such a short space of time isn’t easy on most people.”

 

“I don’t think he’s especially happy to be doing another shoot tomorrow.” Phil ducks out of the way as Dan hurls his phone at the car door. It doesn’t shatter, only bounce, but it’s a near thing.

 

“FUCK.” Dan doesn’t yell, but he does sound pretty darn irritated.

 

“It’s the way of the job, unfortunately.” Emma’s voice hardens, becomes more business-like once again. “Petrol money’s in your account. I’ll text you the hotel deets. Think of it as a paid holiday if it’s grating on you that much.”

 

That’s resoundingly not the point, but Phil doesn’t argue. “Bye, Emma. Don’t let the junior editors mess anything up.”

 

He hears her laugh as he moves to hang up. “I won't. Have a nice holiday.”

 

_ This. Job.  _

 

Honestly. 


	6. Cumson Peak

“This. Is ridiculous.” Dan says. He’s lying shirtless on his stomach on the hotel bed, glaring at his phone. 

 

His back is completely completely covered in thin lines of welts, and cuts - some bloodied. Phil had been shocked, at first, but Dan had harrumphed and said, “Believe it or not - most of them don’t actually hurt that much,” and shrugged off any offers of help. 

 

“What’s ridiculous?” Phil asks. He’s only spent a few hours with the man, but he’s discovered that it’s easier to just go along with his trains of thought. If it’s anything important he’ll join in the conversation, but Dan just likes to ramble.

 

“The single hotel room. The single bed! Two shoots in a row without a break in between - do you know how much makeup they’ll have to cover me in to cover these things up?” He waves a hand in the direction of his back. “-maybe it’s a clothed scene? Maybe I won’t have to completely strip off - that’d make sense-”

 

He fumbles with his phone and swipes through his emails.

 

“Shirttails - horror -  _ Cumson Peak  _ \- are you fucking joking - faux-incest, - right.” Dan mutters, looking even more annoyed. “Ew, do they think they’re going to just stick me in a wig and pretend I’m Tom Hiddleston?”

 

“You do have the same posh accent thing going on.” Phil replies, and goes back to his book.  _ Ethical Porn for Dicks  _ is a pretty good read, actually.

 

“Posh?!” Dan looks at him, completely askance. “I’m not posh. I’m articulate. There’s a huge difference.”

 

“Okay.”

 

“And besides, Tom Hiddleston is beautiful. I’m not beautiful like that. Did you see his performance in Infinity War? I  _ cried. _ ”

 

“A bunch of teen girls would disagree.”

 

“With what? That Tom Hiddleston is beautiful?”

 

“No - that you aren’t.”

 

Dan blinks, looking oddly taken aback. A faint redness stains his cheeks. “You can’t just say things like that, Philly.” He says, softly.

 

Phil’s already said enough dumb things today, so it’s not like anything more is going to change anything, “Thousands of people watch you get naked for money. And they  _ pay  _ for it. There’s got to be a degree of attraction in there, surely.”

 

“Shut up.” Dan says, but there’s no heat in it. He’s even redder now - if that’s possible.

 

He buries his head into the bed and lets out a sigh.

 

Phil, deciding that it’s probably time for him to shut up, goes back to his book. He reads the line, “We see them as ‘experiencers’-” four times before he has to shut it again. It’s silly - this. He watched one video and now he can’t get the other man out of his head.

It’s never happened like this before - he’d be a social pariah if it had. He doesn’t know why Dan’s got him so riled. “When was the last time that you had sex with someone you liked?”

 

Dan knocks his phone off the bed and swears under his breath. He retrieves it with a groan. “That’s a pretty personal question you’re asking there.” 

 

“Not really?” Phil asks, as offhandedly as he can manage. “I was just curious. You know. Since this is your job.” 

 

“Okay, if you don’t think it’s that personal, let’s flip it. When was the last time  _ you  _ had sex with someone you liked?”

 

“Three months ago. With my ex-boyfriend. He works at Luxure actually, you might know him.” Phil replies, honestly. He’s not particularly prudish about things like this.

 

Dan huffs. “It’s just- Look. I work with people who are very good at what they do. They’re hot. Af. But I’m not really attracted to any of them. I will happily fuck any of them - because they’re hot and good at it, but I’ve never felt that spark. You know?”

 

“I absolutely do not.” Phil says, because it’s the truth.  _ He _ ’s never been a porn star.

 

“You get what I mean!” The younger man exclaims, and turns onto his back. He winces, drawing air through his teeth. “You know, I was going to say something very witty and exciting here to prove my point, but  _ ow.  _ Maybe not.” He sits up and braces himself on his hands. “Fuck. Ugh. I’ve got to like… move around… and stuff tomorrow. Ow.”

 

“Are you sure there’s nothing I can do?” Phil puts his book aside, because really, he’s getting no reading done, and it wasn’t that great a book anyway.

 

“...I’ve barely known you for two days, Phil.”

 

“And we’re stuck in a hotel room together because we’re both getting paid to be here. I’ll be honest, it’s not the most traditional of meet-cutes.”

 

Dan snorts and groans again under his breath. “Fine. If you want to clean everything off and cover me in plasters that’s on you. I don’t usually bother - but like - If you want.”

 

“You need to learn better self-care.” He’s not sure why he says it. It’s not appropriate for their relationship - friendship, whatever - but it’s true. If Phil’s noticed one thing over the last two days, it’s that Dan is self-effacing and doesn’t seem to have much time for himself.

 

Dan snorts again and wraps his arms around his knees, loosely. “Probably. First aid kit’s in my bag. If you want.”

 

And so, Phil  _ does.  _ It’s weirdly not weird - despite their differences, despite everything. Dan do much more than just grunt and bit, and complain when Phil presses down slightly too hard. 

 

On impulse, Phil touches the skin at the base of his neck, stroking down along the edge of one of the welts with his finger. It’s bizarre, this. Almost alien. Dan’s skin is very warm, and soft, and he makes a hoarse sound at the back of his throat when Phil presses in.

 

It’s odd, how much like sex this is. Just a little.

 

It’s odd.

 

He pulls back, suddenly conscious of what he’s doing. He’s got no right to treat Dan like this - despite anything, despite what he does. He’s got no right. “All done.” He says, cheerily, though the insincerity rings in the air. “You’ll be fine.”

 

“Thanks.” Dan says, sleepily, and looks up at him bleary-eyed. “I really- yeah.”

 

“No problem.”

 

Phil says, though he’s lying, and flees.


	7. Pokemoan

The next day’s shoot goes fine. 

Or, at least, Phil thinks it does.

 

He still can’t set foot on a porn set. And like, he knows that’s a problem. Knows that he should be able too - or something, at least at this point - but it makes him uncomfortable. Editing sex scenes together is one thing, but actively hearing people fake it for the cameras is quite another.

 

And… just, the Cinema Luxure thing. The way Dan had described it - it seemed like he’d been put under a lot of pressure by the company. At this point, it hardly seems ethical. Like they’d been abusing their stars or something.

The thought of it nearly makes him sick to his stomach.

 

But he can’t do anything about it. Not now. 

 

He spends the day wandering around Brighton and editing some of his own work. He’d made a short a few weeks previously titled ‘A Tour of My Brain’ - really creative, lit quite well (if he says so himself) - and he’s hoping to enter it in a competition in a few weeks.

It feels good to do some work outside of the company.

Even if he’s technically in Brighton on company time.

 

Dan calls him sometime in the mid-afternoon. He doesn’t sound weepy, or anything, just fed up. 

He looks about the same. 

 

“Any more emails?” Phil asks, really hoping the answer is no. “We’re not here for any more days, are we?”

 

Dan just looks stony-faced out the window. He doesn’t even really respond. At least, not to the question Phil asked. “...can we go to the beach?”

 

“Yeah.” Phil replies, because really, he’s on company time. He’s being paid for hanging around. He doesn’t want to argue, either. Dan seems… out of sorts. A little fidgety. Not quite right. 

 

When they arrive, Dan tumbles out of the car and goes to stand on the shore, far closer to the water’s edge than is really necessary. Phil takes a moment, locks the car behind him, and heads out onto the beach as well.

It’s windy on the shore, breeze blowing around his coat and scarf. It’s on the verge of rain too, the sky just beginning to spit down little flecks of water.

It’s a shit day.

 

“What would you do if I just walked into the sea right now?” Dan asks, without looking back at him, and Phil can’t even tell if he’s trying to be funny.

 

“Well, my contract says-” Phil starts, and he’s only half joking. 

 

“No. What would  _ you  _ do? Real life Phil Lester?” 

 

“...I’d try and stop you.”

 

Dan turns, stares him right in the eyes. It makes him a little uncomfortable. “Why. Why would you do that? We’ve barely known each other for three days.”

 

“...Because I don’t like seeing people upset. And I… might not be able to help, but I can listen? If you want?”

 

“Yeah.” Dan slumps down, in the sand, and starts throwing handfuls of it from hand to hand. He shifts, winces, and sighs. “I just want it to stop.” 

 

Phil takes a cautious seat next to him, on the edge of an upturned log. “You want what to stop?”

 

“This… nonsense. All of it. Extra days, no schedule, being fucked over by the studio time and time again. I’m so… tired, Phil. Of everything. All of it. I just want to lie here and watch the moon rise and do nothing at all ever again.” 

 

There’s an edge of wetness in his voice. Mild hysteria. A lot of pain. 

It sounds well-hewn. Deep-seated. A problem that Phil can’t fix, and he’s not even going to try. “Have you talked to someone about this?”

 

Dan wipes the edge of his face roughly with one hand and sniffs. “Do you know how hard it is to talk to a therapist when you work in  _ porn?  _ Half the time they just dismiss you. The other times you can just hear the judgement in their voices whenever you go to an appointment. There’s still a stigma about sex work, and especially if you’re a guy. I like this job - or, at least I  _ did  _ \- but… it’s just. Hard. You know?”

 

“I really, really don’t.” Because honestly, what else is Phil supposed to say? He’s a good listener, but there’s a point, and he’s pretty sure he passed it the evening before. It’s been a long three days.

 

Dan snorts. “Yeah. I know. Sorry for unloading on you - and all this. It’s shit. I just - you’re good to talk to. You’re the first person I’ve talked to from this company in  _ years  _ who I’d want to play Pokemon Go with. You’re actually tolerable.”

 

“Why, thanks.”

 

“You know what I mean. And yes. I still play Pokemon Go. Don’t judge me.”

 

“If I was going to judge you on anything I’ve seen in the last three days, would it really be your penchant for Pokemon Go?”

 

“Yeah.” Dan shrugs and stands up. He brushes the extra sand off his jeans and sighs. “I want out, Phil. I want to leave Luxure - do something else - use my popularity for good. Take down places like this place.”

 

“Then why don’t you?” Phil puts his hand out, and without even making a crack about it, Dan pulls him to his feet. 

 

They’re very close.

 

In the cool Brighton wind, it’s almost warming. 

 

Dan looks him up and down, just for a second. It feels a little too much like intimacy. Then he smirks, and pulls away. “I’m locked into a contract for the next six months, Philly! Gotta ride this hellwave until then. Oh, to be the lawyer I was going to be. I might have been able to get out the contract if I was.”

 

Phil chases after him, shoes sinking into the damp sand. To see such a sudden change in behaviour is… strange. It’s almost too abrupt. “You can’t get out of the contract?”

 

“Not really. I’d forfeit my name, all the good I’ve done to try and change the industry from the inside - It’s not worth it. Six months, eh? I might just get my life back then.” And he’s smiling, but there’s a layer of something underneath it that’s not quite sincere. He’s not happy, even if he’s pretending he is. 

 

“You really should talk to someone else about this, Dan. Someone who isn’t me…” Phil pleads, softly, just under his breath. He doesn’t quite know what to do.

 

“Maybe I should.” Dan says, and then stops next to Phil’s car. He stares at him, just for a moment. “But I probably won’t.”

 

It’s self-destruction at its finest. Classic wallpapering over the real problem. It’s obvious, and dangerous, and Phil doesn’t have to be able to read people well to see that.

 

But really, what can he say? 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow i can't believe this was going to be a crackfic

**Author's Note:**

> this is how i use my film degree folks
> 
> tell me off at [ my tumblr ](http://eph-em-era.tumblr.com)


End file.
